


Righteous Man Suspended

by storyspinner70



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Wincest Writing Challenge, mentions of bottom Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 14:58:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12820020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storyspinner70/pseuds/storyspinner70
Summary: Wincest Writing Challenge: (November - Tarot) | @Cinnamonanddean vs. @storyspinner70Prompt: The Hanged ManRating: Mature | Wordcount: 1045 |Tags/Warnings: #wincestwritingchallenge, #wincest, #canondivergent, #theboysaresomessedup #butsoinloveWarnings: brief mentions of bottom!sam





	Righteous Man Suspended

Wincest Writing Challenge: (November - Tarot) | @Cinnamonanddean vs. @storyspinner70  
Prompt: The Hanged Man  
Rating: Mature | Wordcount: 1045 |  
Tags/Warnings: #wincestwritingchallenge, #wincest, #canondivergent, #theboysaresomessedup #butsoinlove  
Warnings: brief mentions of bottom!sam

 

 

**Righteous Man Suspended**

 

“You want to know what the cards have to say?”

Dean and Sam had come to an occult shop they found in their Dad’s journal. As Sam chattered to the owner in the back, Dean picked up some items they needed to replenish anyway and piled them on the counter.

There was a table in the corner – round as they always are and draped with silk in vaguely exotic prints any gypsy fortune teller would be proud of.

The last time Dean got his tarot read, he’d pulled The Moon, The Nine of Swords and The Tower. Cards full of fear, deception and failure. It hadn’t made his wait for hell any easier. The cards on the table were a fanciful, colorful deck, the cards oversized and vibrant, the backs a swirling black and the faces monsters of lore.

“Shuffle the deck. Feel when it’s fresh and clear.”

“Look, lady, we don’t really have time for this and I wouldn’t know a fresh and clear deck if it jumped on me in a dark alley.”

“You must be Dean.” The woman stepped in front of Dean, heavy jewelry jangling, her feet bare. “You know as well as anyone that I never tell the truth. That people don’t really want to know the truth.” She slid her hand over the deck, pulling it to the edge of the table. “You must shuffle. Cut the deck. Draw one card. Place it face down here.”

Dean grabbed the deck, his face a study in insolence. “Why only one card?”

“You’re in a hurry, right? It’ll tell you enough. You, I won’t lie to. Go on, shuffle.”

Dean shuffled until he felt the deck was thoroughly mixed, cut the deck and placed both piles on the table. He could feel the brush of her hair and the woman moved slightly behind him.

“Draw. One card.” As he did, she placed one hand on his bicep and one on his back. “Put it face down on the table. Do not turn it, do not flip it.” She waved her fingers through the smoke of the incense burning on the side of the table. “Last chance to say no, Dean.”

Dean scoffed. The woman nodded and flipped the card.

“The Hanged Man.” She was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...”

“But you did,” Dean murmured. “Finish it.”

“The Hanged Man is a simple card. On the surface. Rather like you from what I’ve heard. A man of simple pleasures – drink, the kill, sex.” The woman flipped the two halves of the split deck over, fanning the cards on the table, Dean’s card in the middle. “The Hanged Man is the same – a simple reminder that sometimes stopping is the best thing to do.”

She raised her eyes to his and continued. “But this card isn’t the least bit simple. It can mean restriction. Something you’re struggling against. Something that _must_ be, but you won’t accept it.”

“Look, there’s nothing...” Dean started.

The woman grabbed his arm, her scarlet nails digging into his sleeve. “You are a willing victim. A sacrifice for the world and for your brother. But you struggle, even in this. You are not a martyr – too steeped in your own gratification for your sacrifice to be complete. You look for satisfaction even as you long for degradation – for punishment you think you deserve.

“You are the righteous man, but you are selfless in only one area – Sam. Even then, you can’t be honest. You hurt him. You don’t trust him. You think that even now, his monstrousness may come back. You hold against him everything you forgave him for, even now.”

Dean jerked his arm away from her, but she merely grabbed his chin, her nails finding purchase in skin this time. “You give him what he wants. You touch him but you worry you’re spreading hell through his bones every time you slip inside him. You forget he was there longer than you. That he has more hell than you will ever know.

“You forget how unclean he feels. How he holds on to every word you speak to him, hoarding them like secrets – tattoos that will live on his skin forever. I see them. We all see them.

“ _You’re a monster Sam. If I didn’t know you, I’d want to hunt you. You’re mine, Sammy, forever. I’ll never leave you again._ _I’ll never love anyone like I love you. You’re a liar, Sam. I don’t trust you. You are the only one I’ll ever need, Sammy._

“You forget that torture isn’t always knives and blood and skinning people alive. You’re torturing both of you every single day.” The woman pried her nails free from Dean’s face. “You’ll never be free until you stop, Dean. There will never be peace for either one of you until you let go.” The woman dropped her hand to the face of Dean’s card. “The Hanged Man is a simple card, Dean. Like you’re a simple man. It’s about sacrifice and redemption and what you’re willing to lose to become a truly righteous man.”

Dean’s eyes involuntarily flicked to Sam, who was now standing at the counter.

“He’s going to be your sacrifice, Dean.”

“No,” Dean croaked.

“Sometimes if you don’t make a decision for long enough, someone does it for you.” The woman walked around Dean, stopping at the doorway to the other room. “Don’t wait too long.”

Sam strode up to Dean, and Dean gathered the Tarot cards into a pile, shuffling them quickly. “Don’t tell me you got your cards read. You don’t believe in that.”

“I had to do something, Sammy. You’ve been talking to her for like an hour.”

Sam scoffed, “More like half an hour.”

“Whatever, Sammy, I think my hair grew while I was waiting. That’s how long it was.”

Sam shifted the books in his arms to one hand, punching out at Dean with the other.

“Come on bitch. I’m hungry. I need a burger.”

“Would it kill you to eat something healthy?”

“Yes.” Dean paused, “but I do eat healthy.”

Sam snorted. “When?”

“Pie, Sammy. Pie has fruit and stuff. Healthy.”

“Dean...”

**

If you don't sacrifice for what you want, what you want becomes the sacrifice

                                                                           ― _Anonymous_


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